Poker with guns
by salamandragora
Summary: My local file for this story was named "ff gfl stupid". Features babushka, cola, and first-oath Makarov, yo.


My local file for this story was named "ff_gfl_stupid". Rated T I guess because language. And T-dolls get shot. Remember that まつお 2日目南ヨ27a is your lord and savior for all art babushka.

* * *

T-Doll Commander and all around patient and level-headed human Aile was left speechless for a whole ten seconds at the scene before her, and the first thing she finally did manage to say was, admittedly, not exactly dripping with intelligence.

"What. The. FUCK."

Five minutes ago, UMP9 had kindly dropped by her office to tell her that SAA was reportedly in 'full cowboy mode'. This statement, which may have seemed like a harmless observation to the ignorant, had led Aile to sprint through the compound to find the delusional T-Doll before there was another incident on her hands.

What she was staring at now, she realized, was the incident.

SAA herself was slumped, shot and motionless, against the wall of an old repurposed ammo storage room. The only non-animate things in the room were an (overturned) imitation wood table, a (swinging) bare light bulb, and a (scattered) deck of cards.

M1895 was crouched next to SAA's corpse, poking at the bullet hole in the side of the T-Doll's head.

Makarov stood in the center of the room, shrugging magnificently at Aile's exclamation.

"However this looks, Commander, I can assure you that I am not at fault. Though, as the only T-Doll in this room with a modicum of maturity, I was hoping you'd already assume as much and would not require an explanation as to—"

"You were playing poker, _with guns_. Did you happen to forget that I explicitly placed a base-wide ban on _playing poker while in possession of your firearms?!_ Sweet Jesus how could I have made that _any_ clearer!"

"As a responsible T-Doll who abides by her commander's orders, you'll see that I am unarmed, as is M1895. The only T-Doll here who directly defied your ban was SAA. She said something about being reminded of the Prohibition, and then that 'no cowboy sits down to play cards without her trusty—'"

"Yes yes, I can imagine. Ok Miss Innocent. So how is it that SAA was the only one armed, and yet _she's_ the one with a bullet hole through her head?"

"Again, a rather simple answer. The bullet is from her own weapon, and her own hand. Disarming and shooting her with her own firearm would not have been all that challenging, admittedly, but I did no such thing."

It was creepy how SAA's eyes had turned to literal X's and her tongue was lolling out the side of her mouth. It was also creepy how M1895 had laid her out on the floor and folded SAA's her hands over her own chest like she was about to perform burial rites.

"So, what, you talked her into shooting herself in the head?"

"In a way, yes" she took a worried step backwards at Aile's glare and hastened to add, "but nothing that direct! What I did was convince her to settle our dispute the Russian way."

There was no way Aile got paid enough for this.

"I have so many questions about that sentence. First, what dispute?"

"The American hot-shot lost, repeatedly, and accused me of cheating."

That was way too easy to see happening. SAA was ninety-five percent cute and five percent _insufferable_. Aile had an idea of how this story ended, but she had to ask regardless.

"And settling your dispute the Russian way...?"

"Well, her weapon—which I might remind you, she brought to our game despite your explicit orders to the contrary—is a classic chamber revolving model, perfectly suited for a… _roulette_ of sorts—"

"Right, I've heard enough." Wait, where the hell did M1895 get incense? What language was she praying in? "I'm now banning all poker games until further notice. If you can't play games without sending each other to the repair bay, then I'll..."

A rush of sprinting footsteps could be heard approaching. Aile looked at Makarov. Makarov looked at Aile. If glares could speak,

_Don't._

_Don't what?_

_Oh my god you know exactly what, you little—_

The door was kicked open, revealing another of SAA's dummies, dual revolvers drawn.

"Reach for the sk—!"

BANG.

"MAKAROV!"

"Self-defense."

"YOU LYING LITTLE PIECE OF SHIT!"

"Hm? Oh." She looked at the weapon in her hand as if she'd never seen it before. "How mysterious."

This was as good a time as any to point out that AK-47 had been in the room the entire time, doubled over in a corner laughing herself completely breathless. At this point it sounded like she might actually pass out from lack of oxygen, if only that could even happen to T-Dolls (the world granted no such mercy).

"Mysterious my ASS!"

They could hear another set of running footsteps.

"Give me your firearm. Now."

"C-Commander?! She will shoot me! Surely you would not allow me to be gunned down without—"

"Give me the gun or M1895 gets your whole next week's worth of lap privileges."

The gun landed in Aile's open palm before she'd even blinked. The door, which had only just swung shut from the previous entrance was again kicked open.

"You look like the vermin ridden sonuva—"

She'd try reason. Briefly.

"SAA! Would John Wayne shoot an unarmed opponent?"

The T-Doll faltered, her gaze flicking towards Aile and her surly grin wavering.

"W-Well… no, but… but Doc Holiday would!"

"Wyatt Earp wouldn't."

"E-Every Clint Eastwood character w—!"

"If you don't holster that weapon right now I'll ground you from watching westerns for a month."

"Eep!"

The second dead SAA dummy had been dragged over beside the first one, and now had coins laid over her eyes. The third (and only living) dummy looked at her two corpse selves and was visibly disturbed. Wait, when the hell had M1895's extra dummies showed up to help her with this bizarre little side show…?

"New rules, right now. Makarov? You're only allowed to goad/trick/manipulate a T-Doll into critical-repair status once per month."

"What?! And wait, how will you even enforce that?"

"Strictly. If a T-Doll is suspiciously wounded after an argument or conversation with you, I might just count it as your monthly kill right then and there. SAA, you're allowed _one_ high noon duel per month. Outside of that, you're forbidden from issuing any 'to the death' challenges whatsoever. That includes challenge by movie quote."

"Wacolamasu…"

Aile's multilingual brain actually burst a gasket at trying to comprehend that one and simply… gave up out of instinctual self-preservation.

"…M1895."

The closest dummy looked up from her vigil with a kind smile.

"Yes, Commander?"

"Would you be willing to help SAA bring herselves to the repair bay? Afterwards, come to the command center and you can sit on my lap all you want."

"Heh heh, there's no way a doll as old as me would care about sitting in the lap of such a youngster. But if it'll make you feel comforted, I guess it can't be helped."

It was almost normal when she talked. But her other dummies were now respectively chanting, dancing, and weeping in the background. Reality had long since outpaced Aile's dreams for weirdness, she'd noticed.

Makarov was so shocked that it had taken her a few seconds to protest.

"Commander?! This afternoon from 2pm to 3pm is _my_ allotted time for s-sitting on your lap."

Amazing how even a T-Doll of her pride could saw that with a straight face and only the tiniest stutter.

"Well, maybe use that time to reflect on how much it stresses me out when you suggest playing Russian roulette with one of your fellow T-Dolls. Don't worry, M1895 is getting SAA's scheduled hour tomorrow as well."

"You colan't be serious!"

But she was. Aile was ready to cuddle with old Charon the Ferryman over there for _weeks_ if that was what it took. Or at least, for a few hours until she lost her nerve and forgave them.


End file.
